Disciplined
by HowAboutThisForAName
Summary: A scouting mission, but with Nathan Cowell, he can do so much more.


**Now we involve the TR, as I promised. So those that are bitching about Minecraft can wait, you lot have an entire team on Youtube keeping you happy, Planetside 2 fans only have limited entertainment.**

**Enjoy.**

The infiltrator was a forgotten class...

Nathan Cowell stalked the mountain paths of Amerish thoughtfully, finding peace in the SR-7 sniper rifle clutched firmly between his hands.

A scouting mission, for one of his skill, was a walk in the park, he didn't even need the cloak that seemed to do little but gather dust.

He just faded.

Coming along a ridge, he watched below as an NC convoy made it's way along, pulling out a pair of binoculars and turning on the recording, he started counting.

"Six vanguards, eighteen lightnings, four sunderers, seven flashes-" He quickly ducked down as a jet passed overhead, and felt his camouflage a useful tool. "-and six mosquitoes."

"Lets see, six times two... plus eighteen..." He began, doing the maths quickly and professionally. "Four hundred and twenty one troops."

He hummed, producing his IFF device, he took stock, aimed, and fired.

The probe flew and hit without a sound, his own suppression system making it a nonsensical item that few of his team mates even noticed when they had the gull to follow him around.

But... He thought, in a moment of originality, he could do so much more than that.

Grabbing the claymore by his waist, he almost laughed at the ensuing chaos that would be sure to be birthed, these rebels... These pirates without a chance against a hardened soldier such as himself.

He counted, "One, two, three, four." Three times, that the amount of time for the middle of the column to be within his direct sight.

"Boom." Throwing the claymores just over the edge of the cliff, he quickly produced his pistol and let loose a single solitary shot.

It impacted, and one of the two claymore exploded, chaining with the other and causing a large explosion to destroy part of the cliff.

The convoy stopped, and any outside the vehicles looked to the cliff in confusion.

The soft soil and crummy rocks began falling, the unstable land of Amerish full of land slides, and Nathan would always use this.

Even the land he stood on fell, and he watched as a two sunderers, four lightnings and five flashes were buried under a mountain of dirt, and he heard screaming for but a moment before they were crushed by the sheer pressure of it.

A dust cloud was lifted, and Nathan appeared from the top of the hill, his natural camouflage being more useful than his cloak ever would.

He took aim from his lying position, and watched as soldiers removed themselves from the sunderers and vanguard turrets, slowly walking towards the mass of dirt.

A shot rang out, and a soldier fell, and the men started panicking. Firing at vague objects in the distant, the TR fell another of these heavy plated soldiers, remembering to keep quiet despite the wish to laugh so vocally.

He slid down the hill, and charged through the dust, finding a solitary soldier from a flash dismounted and protecting the vehicle with bated breath.

The flash of a knife and this soldier lay dead without a sound, and the Infiltrator took the keys off his corpse with decency, reminding himself that even they fought with bravery, and didn't deserve to be spit on, not that he really could.

Pushing the flash a little to the left, he activated the engine, and grabbed a decent sized rock.

Placing it on the accelerate, he allowed it too fly from his grasp and into the small horde outside the closest sunderer, balling down three and giving him the distraction to fire the last three of his clips.

He rushed within the group, now reduced to a mere five members, a snivelling group of rookies that had pathetic weapons and armour.

Making his chain blade known, his pistol in the other hand, he stabbed a soldier in the neck before violently ripping it out, firing twice into another soldier before cutting into his shoulder.

Spinning, he used his martial prowess to kick an aimed gun away and used the momentum to get his blade in the man's armpit, causing him to scream as the blade was cut upwards and out of his arm, the pathetic tissue leaving a dangling mass of bleeding flesh.

Feeling a few bullets against his back, he growled and cloaked. Rushing backwards and too the side so that they still fired where he was, but with little effect.

Appearing next to the two soldiers, he punched one brutally before rushing over his tumbling form and into the other, slamming him against the sunderer's rear and pinning him there with his own blade.

Watching the last soldier scramble on the ground, he approached, his knife dripping blood while his pistol smoked delicately.

Placing a foot on the NC's shoulder, the man smirked under his mask, representing the demon that was the TR.

His two cold lenses stared at the soldier, before he aimed.

"N-" The man began, but was cut off with a bullet to the face.

Chuckling, Nathan Cowell clambered into the back of the sunderer, walking towards the front seat slowly.

"Hey Mack you finished back there?" The driver asked, an engineer that made him scowl, how rogue these soldiers were. Replacing his sniper rifle, he aimed it at the back of the man's headrest.

"Yes, yes he is." He spoke coldly, and fired.

Brain matter and blood splattered against the windshield, making it impossible to see out of the machine.

Pushing the corpse aside, he inserted a hacking tool while looking over the controls, it wasn't much different from the TR sunderers, save the stupid hula doll on the dashboard.

This was good, he could exploit the same tactic he always had when in danger.

Hacking a terminal and rearming himself, he watched with some inner smile as the men outside the Sunderer searched hopelessly for him, how stupid they were.

He removed his USB, and threw down a mine, placing the Engineer's foot on the pedal before running towards the back of the vehicle.

Jumping out, he watched as some soldiers watched the vehicle rapidly accelerate into the rear of the vanguards and lightnings, destroying the latter and damaging the former.

He turned, fired and watched, as the vehicle went up in a brilliant plume of flames and smoke, the mine having been planted directly on the fuel tank.

Laughing openly, his cry echoed on the walls of the pass, and he cloaked, escaping with satisfaction.

How had he succeeded? He thought absently...

Discipline, the key to loyalty, and therefore the key to order.

…

**I didn't like this as much as the other one, it wasn't nearly as good, but it'll do until my brain stops spazzing.**

**Whatever, Maverick out.**

**Dedicated to Engie, who commented on Evolved and asked for a TR infantry fic just after I posted it... You are fail.**


End file.
